


The Poltergeist House

by HappyCatTaxi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Haunted Houses, Mystery, Poltergeists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 10:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16283165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyCatTaxi/pseuds/HappyCatTaxi
Summary: On Halloween, Harry and Hermione are sent to investigate a haunted house. They find signs of poltergeist activity, but they also find something much more disturbing; dead bodies and a plot to resurrect Voldemort.





	The Poltergeist House

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [HalloweenHarmonyComp2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HalloweenHarmonyComp2018) collection. 



> There is mention of death and dead bodies, but it is not gory nor is it a horror story.
> 
> All canon characters, plots, dialogue, and situations from the Harry Potter series belongs to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work. 
> 
> I would like to thank my beta **RavenclawPixieRose**. Thanks for all your help!
> 
> This piece was written for Something Wicked This Way Comes, a Harmony & Co Halloween One-Shot Competition.  
> I am very happy to announce The Poltergeist House won 'Best Creepy' and 'Best Use of Theme' and was a runner-up in 'Most Creative' and 'Best Dark' and was a joint runner-up in 'Best Execution of Prompt'.
> 
> **Prompt:**  
>  Harry and Hermione end up locked in an old manor with an angry poltergeist

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157505903@N08/44753355445/in/dateposted-public/)

The aesthetics was made by [WildflowerWeasley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildflowerWeasley/profile).

...

The last day of October 2004 was surprisingly warm considering the season, but the atmosphere around Number 30 East Drive in a Muggle neighbourhood in South Shields was cold, unnaturally so. The two people standing on the street were watching the house with apprehension. The house itself was, apart from being a large house, nothing particularly special to look at; it was derelict and boarded up, the garden was overgrown, and the fence around the property consisted only of broken or completely missing panels.

“Why is it, we are spending Halloween working?” Harry complained to his colleague.

Hermione eyed him, but didn’t reply. She was not particularly happy about being called into work on a Sunday either.

“Can’t we just come back tomorrow?” He asked and with a wicked smile added, “we could go back to bed for a couple of hours and then get ready for Malfoy’s party tonight.”

“Don’t tempt me, Harry!” Hermione smiled while punching him in the shoulder. “It is not my wish to be spending Halloween investing an old Muggle house, but the sooner we finish the sooner we can go home. If we can wrap up in five hours, we still have time to get ready for the party.”

“Then let’s get started,” Harry said giving her a big grin. “What’s the info?”

“Well, this is Prewitt Manor,” she said looking at her file. She noticed Harry’s inquiring look and continued. “No, not that family. There might be a Squib relative, but I don’t see a link. The former residents suddenly disappeared about five years ago.”

“Five years ago,” Harry repeated. “Then at least we know it was not Voldemort’s doing.”

“They acquired the house in 1977 from...” she flipped through the pages. “Well, it doesn’t say from whom they bought it.” Looking at her file again, she continued, “according to the Muggle police, the neighbours are bothered by loud noises and screams from the house.”

“So why are we here and not the Muggles?” Harry asked bewildered.

“The file just says that the police looked into the property, but found no reason for the loud noises,” Hermione said after looking through the pages. “It’s not a very comprehensive file, but I would assume, it was flagged as a possible haunting in the police database and you know how the ministry keeps tabs on that.”

“Sure, so what types of haunts have been observed?”

“The usual; flickering of the lights even when the power is cut, screams and loud noises from inside an otherwise empty house, the police that investigated reported rooms getting colder.”

“Sounds like poltergeist activity, doesn’t it?” Harry asked.

“It does,” Hermione confirmed. “The current owner of the house is a Mr Caldan. He is supposed to meet us here.”

“Is that him?” he asked pointing to a person exiting the house.

“Must be,” she answered. “Let’s go.”

As they entered the front garden, the man noticed them.

“You there,” he called pointing towards them. “Who are you?”

As they drew closer they could see he was an older man dressed in shabby clothes. In many ways he reminded them of his house; both their primes were behind them.

“Hello,” Harry said coming forward holding his hand out to greet Mr Caldan. “We are part of the special investigative unit at the police.”

“You’re here to deal with the ghost then?”

“We are here to investigate the possible hauntings, yes,” Harry replied. “My name is Harry Potter and this is my colleague Hermione Granger.”

“I am Wren Caldan,” the man said with a laugh which quickly turned into a cough.

“Can I get you some water, Mr Caldan?” Hermione asked.

He waved her off, but kept coughing. Harry and Hermione exchanged a look, but patiently waited for Mr Caldan to get the coughing under control.

“Are you alright now, Mr Caldan?” Harry asked.

“Just the damn asthma,” he answered.

“Could you tell us about your home?” Harry asked trying to be professional.

“I ain’t live here. I just own the property.”

Harry looked to Hermione and she quickly took up the questioning.

“When did you acquire the property, Mr Caldan?” she asked.

“Five years ago after the Prewitts died,” he said.

“I don’t believe they were found dead,” Hermione said looking through the file. “I thought they went missing.”

“Missing, dead,” he said. “It’s the same to me. I bought the house.”

“Alright,” Hermione acknowledged after exchanging a look with Harry. “Can you add anything that might help us in the investigation?”

“Nah,” he said waving them off. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

He unlocked the door for them and let them into the hallway. Soon after he left the property leaving Hermione and Harry to stare after him.

“He seemed a bit mad, didn’t he?” Harry asked.

Hermione only responded by nodding.

“Right, let’s see what we are dealing with,” he said. 

The house was left in darkness and nothing seemed to be stirring. They both used the wand-lighting charm to be able to see their way around the house. As soon as the light lit up the hallway, someone screamed from across the hallway. As they looked a shadowy figure shot straight up through the ceiling.

“Guess that’s our poltergeist,” Harry commented.

“Could also have just been a ghost.” Hermione murmured.

“Does it really matter whether it was a ghost or a poltergeist?” he asked making her turn to look at him ready to argue the differences between ghosts and poltergeists, but instead she just laughed at him.

“Do you really want to start that debate again?” she asked reminding him of the last time he mistook a ghost for a poltergeist.

“I know, I know,” Harry agreed raising his arms trying to placate Hermione, “but I'll never understand the difference.”

“Then aren’t you just the lucky one to be paired with me today?” Hermione joked poking him in the side.

Harry quickly grabbed her around the waist and spun her around.

“There is no one else I would rather spend my Sunday with than you,” he replied seriously before he leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her lips.

“Just imagine if you tried that with any of the other colleagues,” Hermione commented making Harry laugh.

“Is it too late to go back home and come back tomorrow?” Harry asked leaning in to kiss her again.

“Mr Potter, we are at work,” she replied but didn’t break out of his embrace.

“Ah, you are right,” he agreed. “And didn’t you say earlier; ‘the sooner we finish the sooner we can go home’?”

“That I did,” she replied winking at him.

“Then let the investigation commence,” Harry laughed.

He let her go and they started looking around for clues on the ground floor. Hermione was looking in the living room, while Harry was walking around the hallway. Apart from the first sighting of the spirit, nothing really stood out to them.

Harry reached for the last unopened door in the hallway. As he tried to open it, he was surprised to find that it was locked, as all the other doors he had come across had been unlocked.

“Alohomora,” he said pointing his wand at the door. It opened easily enough and he looked inside. The sight that greeted him was unlike anything he had ever expected to see. At first he didn’t believe his eyes, but after looking at the gruesome scene for a few seconds, his mind acknowledged what he was seeing and that was when the stench reached his nose. He slammed the door shut and took a few calming breaths. He needed to remain calm, get Hermione, and get the hell away from this damned house.  

“Hermione,” he called as calmly as he could.

“Yeah?” she replied looking through the door from the living room.

“We need to leave now,” he said. Hermione looked at him confused and even he could hear the strain in his voice.

“What’s the matter, Harry?” she asked coming towards him.

He was losing control of his emotions and he did not want to worry her, but they needed to get away right now and not come back until they had backup.

“Get out of here,” Harry said. “Apparate to the ministry!”

She had not seen Harry acting like that since the war. Something had happened and it had spooked him. She knew he would tell her later, so she did as she was told. She closed her eyes and tried to apparate, but something was blocking her. Her eyes flew open and she looked at him.

“It’s not working!” she cried.

“Dammit! Must be an anti-disapparition jinx,” Harry yelled. "Then we must get to the door."

He grabbed her arm and they ran the few steps back to the front door. Hermione reached it first, but when she tried to open it, the door would not move.

"Alohomora," she cried as she pointed her wand. She tried the door again but it remained stubbornly shut.

"Move over," Harry said and tried the door himself. Still it would not open. “Dammit!"

"The back door," Hermione suggested already making a beeline for the kitchen.

Harry was just a step behind her as they crossed the hallway. Halfway across, he heard a sound that reminded him of rusty old swings blowing in the wind.

He looked up in time to see the chandelier above them swinging ominously before breaking from the ceiling and falling towards Hermione. As quickly as he could, he grabbed her arm again and pulled her backwards hard. She turned her head and looked surprised at Harry as they both tumbled to the floor. As the chandelier crashed to the ground just ahead of them, her head snapped up.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently. "Are you hurt?"

The gentleness of Harry's voice made Hermione look at him again.

“What is going on?” she asked, surprise and shock written all over her face.

"Let’s first find a way out of here." He held her close and kissed the top of her head. "But tell you what, if we make it out of here, how about we take a holiday."

"I'd like that," Hermione smiled, but quickly her smile froze and she looked him straight in the eye. "Did you just say _'if’_ we make it?"

"Slip of the tongue," Harry said smiling but Hermione noticed the fear in his eyes. "Let's try the back door."

They made their way to the kitchen. As they approached, no more items came falling down, but they did not feel any safer. They opened the door to the kitchen and peeked inside. The first thing they noticed was the eerie quietness, but as they moved inside the drawers opened, the cupboards shook, and the stove flared on, but nothing came flying after them.

Once they made it to the backdoor, Harry grabbed the handle and twisted it. It remained just as shut as the front door and the unlocking charm did not help.

"Stupid house! How can the doors suddenly be locked?" he asked frustrated.

“What can lock the doors and block apparition at the same time?" Hermione mused aloud trying to reason out a result.

"Bombarda," Harry cried. The spell hit the door but was flung back towards him. Only his fast reflexes, honed through Quidditch, made him duck and roll away in time. Before Hermione knew what he was doing, he sent the same spell at the windows next to the door with the same result.

"Harry," Hermione said shocked. "What are you doing?"

"Just testing an idea," Harry replied.

"And what idea was that? Seeing how fast you could hurt yourself?"

"No,” he answered. “I just wanted to see if I could blow up the door, and then when that failed I tried the windows, but for some reason both the door and the windows are unbreakable.”

“Hmm. It’s not a bad idea, but why not just warn me beforehand?”

"Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly. “I didn’t think.”

“That is not a first for you,” Hermione said smiling before becoming serious again. “So, what now?”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “So, we cannot leave the house. For some reason we are locked inside a murder scene. How do we…?”

“A what?” she interrupted looking at him in shock. “Did you say a murder scene?”

“Dammit,” Harry yelled.

“Harry, what is going on?”

“There was a room before,” he admitted with a sigh. “It was full of dead and mutilated bodies. Some had clearly been killed years ago, but others were fresh. Like just a couple of weeks old. They were piled on top of each other and just discarded.”

Hermione stared at Harry. This was too much to take in.

“But… but ghosts don’t usually kill people,” Hermione finally said.

“You saw what almost happened to us before,” Harry replied. “I think we are dealing with an angry poltergeist. It tried to kill us and has killed before.”

“But poltergeists don’t usually kill people,” she said repeating her former sentence, with a small amendment.

“How else would you explain what is going on?” he asked.

“I… I can’t,” she replied.

“We have to face it,” Harry said. “We are locked inside an old manor with an angry poltergeist trying to kill us!” Harry embraced Hermione and hugged her close. How could this possibly have happened?

"What do we do?"

"Can we banish the poltergeist?" he asked. "They are like ghosts, right?"

"No, unfortunately,” she said. “You don't know your poltergeist lore, Harry. Poltergeists and ghosts are classified as spirits, but they don’t have a lot in common. Poltergeists were created based on enormous chaos and are location specific. They have never been alive and therefore cannot die. There is no way to banish a poltergeist, but there is an assumption that since they feed off of chaos and are location specific, if a poltergeist infested house is left alone for a number of years, the poltergeist will fade away."

"That doesn't really help us much," he said.

“But it does raise some interesting questions, doesn’t it?” she replied. “Like when and why was the poltergeist created?”

“I think we should focus our energy on investigating why the poltergeist is trying to kill us,” Harry said. “It might be the only way to escape this house.”

…

After spending a few minutes calming down, they moved up the stairs to the first floor. They divided the rooms systematically between them, so they could cover a larger area. Harry went to the rooms furthest away and Hermione looked into the nearest rooms. The first room she investigated was a bathroom. Nothing really stood out to her, so she quickly left it. The next room seemed to be a child’s bedroom, as there were still playthings scattered around. As she stepped inside the room, the light began flickering on and off.

“Who are you?” a voice asked. It seemed to be a young child, but the light was making it difficult to be certain.

“My name is Hermione,” she answered. “What is your name?”

“Mafalda,” the child replied.

“Hello Mafalda,” Hermione said. “Are you alone here?”

“No, you are here too.”

“Sweetie, do you live in this house by yourself?”

“No,” Mafalda replied. “I don’t live here.”

“But these items are yours, are they not?”

“Yes, of course,” Mafalda replied.

“Can you tell me where your parents are?”

“I don’t have parents,” the child replied.

“Why, what happened to them?”

“I never had parents.”

“I don’t understand,” Hermione mused. “Before out in the hallway, someone almost dropped a chandelier on me. Do you know who it was?

“I thought you were evil like the demon,” Mafalda said in defence.

“It was you?” Hermione cried.

“Yes,” Mafalda replied sheepishly.

“Mafalda, are you a poltergeist?”

“Of course.”

“You mentioned a demon before,” Hermione reminded the poltergeist. “How do you know it is a demon?”

“The demon brings humans here. He kills them with just words, without touching them and then he drains their blood…”

“Do you know the words? Does he say _‘avada kedavra’_?”

“How do you know that?” Mafalda yelled angrily. “Are you a demon too?”

“No! No, I am not a demon. I am a witch and I believe the demon is a wizard.”

“You are!” Mafalda screamed. She flew from her spot behind the bed towards Hermione. She stopped just a few inches from her face. “You are a demon!”

Up close and with her face twisted in anger, Mafalda came across as quite a scary poltergeist. Shocked Hermione stepped closer to the door trying to get away. She reached the door, but it slammed shut before she could get out. She tried  to swing it open, but it stayed shut.

"Alohomora," she cried as she pointed her wand, but it didn’t budge. She was stuck in the room with a very angry poltergeist.

“Harry!” Hermione screamed and kicked the door.

“Hermione?” she could hear Harry calling from further away.

“Is that Harry Potter?” Mafalda suddenly asked.

“Harry,” Hermione shouted louder, “I am in here, but I cannot open the door.”

“Where?” Harry shouted back. Hermione banged on the door until she could hear him just outside the door. “Hermione?”

“The demon wants to kill Harry Potter,” Mafalda said quietly. She cocked her head to one side as if listening. “The demon is in the basement now.”

“Harry!” she shouted through the door as Mafalda’s words sunk in. She could hear Harry grab the door and yank on the doorknob, but it still would not open.

“Mafalda, what do you mean about the demon wanting to kill Harry?” Hermione cried.

“Alohomora,” Harry cried before yanking the doorknob again.

“The demon murmurs it all the time,” Mafalda said.

“Hermione, what happened?” he asked. “I can’t open the door.”

“The poltergeist is here,” she yelled through the door. “She says a demon is murdering people…”

“But didn’t the poltergeist just try to murder you?” Harry yelled back. “I have to get you out.”

“Harry!” Hermione called. “She says the demon wants you dead.”

“What?”

“I think it is a wizard, because she said he kills with words.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione admitted.

“Well, it is not the first time someone wants me dead,” Harry deadpanned.

“Harry, don’t joke about this.”

“You’ve got to admit, it is the story of my life,” he replied.

“Harry, focus!” Hermione snapped. It scared her to hear him speak so indifferently. “What do we do?”

“We need to stop him,” Harry replied seriously. “I will stop him.”

“Mafalda said he is in the basement right now,” Hermione cried. “Once I get out of here we can make a plan. Mafalda, please let me out now.”

“No,” said Harry and Mafalda in almost perfect unison.

“No?” she replied in question. Mafalda responded by flying through the floor disappearing from view.

“You are safer in there,” Harry replied.

“What?” Hermione screamed. “Harry, don’t you dare leave me here and go on alone!”

“I can’t let you die,” he said in almost a whisper. “I could not live with myself if anything happened to you.”

“And you think I could live without you?” Hermione asked in shock.

“‘Mione, I love you,” Harry whispered through the door. “I’m sorry, but this is up to me.”

“No, Harry! Wait!” Hermione cried.

Harry crossed the landing and went down the stairs. Hermione could hear his footsteps from inside the room. She stood with her forehead pressed to the door for a long while after Harry had left. Standing in a haunted house with an angry poltergeist and knowing the man she loved was going to face a murderer, scared her more than anything had before. She slid to the floor and sat with her back against the door.

“Harry, please, come back to me safely…” she whispered before burying her head in her hands.

…

Harry hated leaving Hermione behind, but he just could not risk her life. This should have been a quick mission to just determine whether the house was actually haunted. How had it gone sour so fast? Ever since the chandelier had almost crushed Hermione, he had been afraid for her safety. He could hardly concentrate with worry for her safety. During the war he had feared for her safety too, but in many ways it was different now. Now they had a possible future; they were living together, talking about children, planning a future. Back then they had not been able to even consider a time after Voldemort. With the idea of a future with Hermione in his head, he was more afraid than ever that it might not happen. He just could not risk her life on this. Whatever happened, he needed her to stay alive.

Sad but determined about leaving Hermione behind, he considered where he was going. He didn’t know who the murderer was, but it was a wizard. Hermione had seemed quite certain of that. Believing the best defence was a good offence, he had his wand out ready for a fight. He really wished that he had brought his invisibility cloak. He had even looked at it before they left, but he didn’t want to risk losing it to an angry spirit, so he had left it at home convinced that it was not needed. Now he regretted that decision. Instead he cast the disillusionment charm on himself. It wasn’t nearly as good as his cloak, but it was the best he could do in the situation. Carefully, he approached the door to the basement. As an Auror, he was trained in spotting spells, so he noticed the faint glow on the door indicating one or more spells had been cast on it.

“Specialis Revelio!” he muttered. The spell revealed the shape of the last spells cast on the door. It seemed to be the shapes of at least two spells and only one of them he could recognise; it was the Muggle-repelling charm.

“Of course! That explains why the Muggle police never found anything,” he muttered to himself. He pushed the door open and peeked inside. It was pitch black.

“Homenum Revelio,” he cast. He was not particularly surprised when the spell didn’t reveal any human presence. He knew the spell was limited in many ways, but he still cast it. It gave him a false sense of security and though he knew the limitations, he still calmed a little and proceeded down the stairs.

He descended the stairs with his wand lit to show the steps. The incantation for the shield charm was ready on his lips at the first sign of trouble. Though he reached the bottom of the stairs without incident, he did not relax. He looked around and saw that he had arrived in a large room. The floor was almost completely covered in large markings in the shape of a star. In the middle of the star stood a large stone archway. It looked like the archway he had seen in the ministry all those years ago, but it just couldn’t be. His logic told him that it was not the same stone archway, but he still had to be sure. From this distance he could not hear any murmurs from it, but he could see the veil moving. His eyes were fixed on the veil and his mind was stuck on the first, and last, time his eyes had beheld the veil, the voices he heard then, and Sirius.

Lost to the environment around him, he slowly moved nearer. His entire being was focused on the archway, so he never heard the sliding door behind him nor did he see Wren Caldan step out. He never saw Caldan raise his wand towards Harry, but he did hear the cry of a spell.

“Stupefy!” Caldan yelled. Caught completely by surprise Harry spun around but didn't raise his shield charm in time. He fell unconscious to the ground as soon as the spell hit him. Caldan laughed as he walked towards Harry.

“Potter! As stupid as always,” He cried before kicking Harry in the ribs.

…

Hermione was still sitting on the floor at the door with her head in her hands when Mafalda came back.

“Eenie meenie Hermione moe,” Mafalda sang tauntingly, making Hermione look up at the poltergeist. “Catch the devil by the toe!”

Mafalda made a grab for Hermione, who felt a sudden pull on her feet. She was quickly swept across the floor screaming, “MAFALDA!”

“If she screams, I’ll never let her go... or maybe I should make her FLY!” At the last word, Mafalda pulled Hermione upwards by her feet and she found herself being swung around the room.

“Mafalda!” Hermione screamed again. “Let me down!” Her movement suddenly stopped and for a moment she was hanging frozen upside down in mid-air.

“Ok!” Mafalda laughed and dropped Hermione head first on the floor. She tried to catch herself with her hands before she hit the floor.

“Ow!” she yelled angrily. “Mafalda, stop this! I need to help Harry.”

“You are a demon,” Mafalda yelled back. “You are evil.”

“I am not evil,” Hermione cried in frustration. Harry was in danger, Mafalda was taunting her, and her hands were hurting. All in all, she was close to losing her patience. “I am trying to stop the murderer,” she hissed.

“Oh? Why didn’t you just say that?” Mafalda said sitting down next to her.

“I’ve been trying to tell you, but you will not listen,” Hermione snapped rubbing her sore hands.

“But why should I listen to a demon?”

“I am not a demon. I told you already, I am a witch,” Hermione reasoned while she was stretching her hands to try and ease the pain. “I never met a poltergeist with your kind of power before.”

“I can’t usually touch people. Guess today must be a special day,” Mafalda replied with a smile.

“How…?” Mafalda and Hermione spoke at the same time. With a short nod Hermione let Mafalda speak first.

“How is a witch different from a demon?”

“The demon is evil, because he is a murderer, right? He kills innocents.”

“Yeah,” Mafalda nodded.

“I want to stop him,” Hermione said. “I will not allow him to kill anyone else. He wants to kill my boyfriend. I cannot let that happen.”

“So what do you plan to do?”

“First, I need you to let me out if this room…”

“But if you leave this room, the demon will catch you.”

“How so?”

“The demon watches the house and all the stairs. It was how the boy was caught.”

“Harry? What happened to him?”

“The demon used a word on him and now he is locked in a cell unconscious.”

“I need to help him!”

“But you can’t use the stairs,” Mafalda said.

“Oh! But how am I supposed to get to the basement without using the stairs?”

“I have a  way,” Mafalda said and with a smile she added, “but you might not like it.”

“If I can help Harry, I will do anything,” Hermione answered.

“There are hidden passageways in this house,” Mafalda said. “There is one that comes out in one of the small rooms in the basement.”

“And the murderer does not know about these passages?”

“Sure he does. It’s why you have to be careful, you see. The demon uses them to get around the house all the time, but he doesn’t think anyone else knows about them. They are not monitored.”

“How do I get to the basement?”

“You need the passage behind my closet to get out on the ground floor. That one is safe enough, but then you cross to the kitchen and go through the back wall in the pantry and enter a stairwell. Go up, because down leads to the attic. Got it?”

“Right,” Hermione mused considering the instructions and going over them in her head.

“Okay, goodbye,” Mafalda said and disappeared.

“Mafalda, why don’t you stick around?” Hermione asked the room at large hoping for an answer, but received none. “So first step was to find the passage behind the closet, right?”

Since there was only one closet in the room, she knew where to start. The closet was one of those old oak closets that looked very heavy.

“Wingardium Leviosa,” she yelled. The closet trembled and slowly rose. When it was free of the floor she moved it. It took a lot of her strength, but when she could see a passage behind it and it looked big enough for her to get through, she put down the closet again.

“I hope the next steps are easier than this,” Hermione muttered as she slipped through the passage. She kept her wand out just in case the murdering wizard was lurking nearby.

The passage ended in a door that led to the dining room on the ground floor. She took a quick look around and rushed to the kitchen. The pantry was just off to the left side of the kitchen, so she slipped in quickly.

“What was I supposed to do here?” she asked herself. “Something with a wall, wasn’t it? I remember the next step, but what was I supposed to do in the pantry?”

Hermione was standing in the pantry trying to remember what she was supposed to do, but her mind kept wandering to Harry. Mafalda had said he was unconscious and locked in a cell! How was he doing now? Was he still alive? She would know if he was dead, wouldn’t she?

“Calm down!” she commanded herself. “Focus! You know it was something with a wall.” She ran her hands over the walls to see if she could find a clue. The back wall felt strange compared to the other walls and it didn’t take her long to realize that it was an illusion and worked just like the entrance to platform 9 ¾ at King’s Cross. With a smile she crossed the border and found herself in a stairway.

“Up she said,” she muttered while she half run up the stairs. All these passageways reminded her of Hogwarts. Could it possibly be that the house used to be owned by wizards? These passageways were not Muggle in making. The stairs ended in a small room with an open door at the other side. She could see footprints in the dust on the floor and she was afraid the murderer was waiting just up ahead. Entering the room she could hear voices from the room beyond.

As she crept closer and closer to the door, she tried to be as quiet as she possibly could. It sounded like Harry, and he was arguing with someone else. It was difficult to hear properly, but it sounded like her name was being said. She was so close to the door that she could peek into the next room. Taking a steadying breath, she looked around the doorframe.

“What took you so long?” Mafalda asked in a whisper from just behind her. Hearing Mafalda’s voice so close shocked Hermione, who had expected to be alone. She led out a gasp of surprise. She quickly covered her mouth with her hands, but she feared her exclamation had been heard in the room beyond.

...

When Harry came round, the first thing he noticed was that he was lying on the stone floor. He kept his eyes closed and listened. He could not hear anyone, so he opened his eyes and looked around. He was in the basement, but he noticed he was in a cage of some sort. Metal bars all around him in a dome-like structure. He searched for his wand, but found it was missing and so was his backup wand. Jumping to his feet he tried to find a weak part of the cage. It was no good.

“Finally awake, Potter,” Caldan laughed walking into the room. “Thought I hit you too hard with the stunner.”

“Who are you?” Harry yelled.

“I told you already,” Caldan laughed. “But you are too stupid to realize! I am Wren Caldan!” He took out his wand and started to write with it in the air. Slowly letters became visible.

I AM WREN CALDAN.

Then he waved his wand once and the letters rearranged themselves.

WALDEN MACNAIR.

Harry stared at the letters in horror.

“My master fooled you once,” Macnair laughed, “and now I fooled you again!”

“No,” Harry cried.

“How could you live while my Master died? My Master is the most powerful wizard who ever...”

“Voldemort was a sick fuck!”

“Shut up!” Macnair yelled in reply. “I will kill you, Potter, and my Master will rise again.”

“It is not possible,” Harry yelled back. “He is dead and he cannot be resurrected!”

“Oh, Potter your ignorance is laughable!” Macnair cried. “I studied the ancient texts! I know the ritual.”

Cold dread swept over Harry. It could not possibly be true; it had to be the ramblings of a madman. What exactly did he remember about resurrection? Not much, he had to admit to himself.

“Where is your girlfriend, Potter? I don’t see her,” Macnair asked looking around the basement.

“Hermione is getting backup. They will be here soon to arrest you…”

“You are lying. She could not possibly escape my wards,” Macnair said interrupting Harry. “Where is she, Potter?”

Harry decided to remain quiet. If Macnair didn’t know where she was, he would not betray her.

“I know how to make you talk.” He pointed his wand directly at Harry. “Crucio!”

The spell hit Harry straight in the chest and he cried out in pain. He stumbled and fell, but the pain of the spell dulled all other senses, so he didn’t realize he was on the floor until after the spell was lifted. As he came round, his mind focussed on the last time he had experienced that spell, and combined with Macnair’s claims to be able to bring back Voldemort, it brought back memories of living life in fear. His body felt heavy. His breathing was laboured. He closed his eyes briefly.

_I just hope Hermione is safe,_ he thought. _I need to stop Macnair whether he can actually resurrect Voldemort or not, I cannot risk it._

“Where is she?” Macnair asked again, but he didn’t reply. “Then I will leave you for now, Potter. I need to hunt down your little mudblood.”

“Leave Hermione alone!” Harry yelled.

“I can’t do that,” Macnair said with a twisted smile. “I need a living vessel to put my Master’s soul into before he can be restored to his original power. Rest assured, she will die a worthy death resurrecting Lord Voldemort!”

“You bastard!” Harry yelled finally finding the energy to rise. He tried to escape the cell to attack Macnair, but it was impossible.

“Oh, shut up now, Potter!” Macnair pointed his wand at Harry. “Crucio!” He kept the spell on him for longer this time and he cried out in pain, loudly, and the only good thing about it was that it drowned out Hermione’s gasp.

She jumped from her hiding place to help Harry, but Mafalda grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“Are you completely mental?” she asked in a whisper.

“I need to help Harry!” Hermione hissed back.

“But you can’t help him if you get caught yourself!”

“I’ll just use the stunning spell...,” Hermione said.

“What if you get it wrong?” Mafalda asked. “He wants to kill you to resurrect this master-lord person. Be quiet and let him leave.”

Shortly after, Macnair ended the spell and Harry’s cries ended. As Macnair left the basement Hermione was deadly afraid he would use the passage in her room, but luck was on her side when he used a different door.

“Mafalda, can you keep watch. Let me know if he returns?”

“Yeah,” Mafalda said and quickly flew to the door through which Macnair had left.

Hermione ran towards Harry. She cast the unlocking charm on the cell door and it easily swung open. He was on the floor when she reached him. Together they got him into a sitting position.

“Harry, are you hurt?”

“Mostly just my pride,” Harry replied with a smile, but he accepted her help to stand. “He caught me completely off guard!”

Hermione was still looking Harry over for wounds, when he grabbed her face with both his hands and forced her to look at him.

“It’s Macnair! He wants to resurrect Voldemort. I don’t know if it is possible, but I need to stop him.”

“WE need to stop him,” she corrected.

“I don’t want you involved,” he said stubbornly.

“I was involved from the moment I set foot in this house,” she retorted. “We work better together anyway,” she added with a smile.

“I just want you safe.”

“We are stuck in a haunted house with a Death Eater, who wants us dead. I don’t think safety is anything you can guarantee at this point.”

“Right,” Harry admitted with a sigh. “What do we do?”

“Mafalda is guarding the door. We should plan an ambush for when he comes back,” Hermione said.

“We could just follow him now and take him out…”

“He knows the house better than us,” Hermione argued. “He would be able to catch us easily. An ambush is our best bet.”

“Then let’s make a plan quickly.”

…

When Macnair returned to the basement half an hour later, he found Harry standing in the cell looking sour and grim. He truly enjoyed seeing the boy-who-should-have-died-as-a-baby looking like that. It brought a smile to his face just thinking about the pleasure of killing the brat himself.

“How did you escape the Battle of Hogwarts?” Harry asked.

“Are we doing small talk now, Potter?” Macnair asked but readily complied, “That oaf Hagrid slammed me into a wall. He knocked me unconscious, but he didn’t tie me up. When I woke, I sneaked out, I stayed out of the wizarding world for a while. I came here to my family’s old manor, and I killed the Muggles living here.”

“Why have you been killing Muggles?”

“You mean beside the fun of hearing them scream and beg for their lives?” Macnair laughed. “The rituals of resurrection and restoration require a living vessel and the spilling of blood. The rituals are very difficult and each step has very specific instructions. I needed to practise so that I could get it right tonight!”

“Why tonight? Why us?”

“Only tonight will all the conditions for the ritual be met; On All Hallows’ Eve when the moon turns to blood, the veil will weaken between the realms and a soul can wander across. Do you understand? Tonight I can reach across the veil and I will resurrect my Master! Your blood was used to restore my Master when he came back before, so I can use your blood to call him back across the veil. You are the closest to a living blood relative I can get.”

”Why do you need Hermione?”

“I told you; I need a living vessel for my Master’s soul,” Macnair answered. “And I need you for the restoration ritual, so I could not use you.”

“Why…?”

“Enough of your questions, Potter!” Macnair yelled. He moved closer to the cell. “Where is your little pet? I could track her to that damned poltergeist’s room, but not beyond. Did the poltergeist kill her already? I knew it would see you as enemies as soon as you arrived, but I was under the impression the Mudblood was fairly competent. Bella was always screaming about the Mudblood, so how could a little poltergeist get the better of her? She was supposed to be clever, wasn’t she?” Macnair asked taunting Harry. “Did she die screaming?”

“She is the smartest witch of her age,” Harry yelled back smiling. “And thank you for the neat confession. It was just what we needed, wasn’t it, ‘Mione?”

“Stupefy!” Hermione screamed instead of replying. Macnair jumped to the side while turning to face her. He had a lot more experience in duels and was simply faster. Her spell sailed harmlessly above him. “Expelliarmus!” she cried but missed him again.

“Stupefy!” he yelled back forcing Hermione to protect herself.

“Protego!” she yelled blocking Macnair’s spell. She was not fast on her feet but she was fast with her wand. She moved a few steps to the left so as to force Macnair to have his back to Harry. Hopefully, Harry could get a shot in using her spare wand.

“Stupefy!” Harry and Hermione yelled at the same time, but Macnair was faster and dived out of reach of the spells.

“Protego,” Macnair yelled when Hermione sent her next spell his way.

“Crucio!” Macnair yelled pointing his wand at Hermione. She fell like a ton of bricks as her shield charm could not block the unforgivable. He quickly released her, but she was floored and breathing heavily. He was able to focus all his attention on Harry, who had escaped the cell.

“I suppose I should thank you for bringing her to me,” Macnair said.

“Leave her alone,” Harry yelled. “Expelliarmus!”

“Protego! Stupefy! Crucio!” Macnair yelled quickly. Harry rolled away from the spells, but Macnair was faster. “Crucio!” He pointed his wand to a few steps in front of where Harry was. Harry, not being able to stop his forward motion, fell into the path of the spell and was hit. Macnair walked leisurely to where Harry had fallen.

“You really are stupid, Potter.”

“Expelliarmus!” Hermione yelled and caught Macnair off guard. The spell hit him and his wand flew from his hand to land near where she was still half lying on the floor.

Wandless but having not given up, Macnair ran across the floor dodging the spells Hermione sent at him. He reached her but just as he was about to pick up his own wand, Mafalda grabbed it.

“Don’t harm Hermione, you demon!” she yelled.

“Get out Poltergeist!” Macnair hissed. “You have no power here!”

“You created me by murdering innocents! You will pay for what you have done!”

“You cannot harm me!” he laughed. “You have no physical powers!”

“On Halloween when the blood moon is high the veil between the realms is fragile, didn’t you say so yourself? I am more powerful than usual,” Mafalda said with a calm voice. “I can even do this!”

She pushed Macnair. He looked in stunned disbelief as Mafalda’s hands made contact with his chest and pushed him backwards.

“NO!” he yelled..

“I can do more than that!” she said. “Just watch me play!” She flew straight at him and though he rolled to the side to get away, she was faster. She hit him with a great force and sent him tumbling to the ground. He quickly rolled away from her attack and stood up. His eyes were tracking her as she got ready to attack again.

“Mafalda!” Hermione cried. “We need him to answer to the Ministry.”

“Sorry, Hermione.” Mafalda grinned but didn’t seem sorry at all. “Now I decide and I wanna play.”

“Mafalda, please!” Hermione tried, but the poltergeist ignored her and advanced on Macnair once more. He spun around and for a few seconds his back was turned to Hermione. She raised her wand.

“Stupefy!”

Macnair spun to face Hermione while he rolled to the left to escape the spell. Mafalda was upon him in the blink of an eye and he jumped further to the left to escape her.

“Stupefy!” Hermione yelled again and this time her spell hit its target. She heaved a sigh of relief as Macnair finally fell to the ground unconscious.

Mafalda, however, was not about to stop her attack just because her prey was unconscious. She grabbed his arms and started to swing him around in the air. High and higher she took him and when she finally let go, the body flew through the air. Unfortunately it was right in the direction of the archway.

His body sailed through the veil, but it didn’t come out on the other side.

“Got him!” Mafalda laughed raising her arms above her head in a gesture of triumph. “I kinda hoped I’d miss the first time, so I could try again.”

“But Mafalda, we needed him to pay for his crimes.” Hermione said.

“Don’t worry, his victims will make him pay,” Mafalda said smiling cheerfully. “Eternal damnation and all that.”

She stared at Mafalda in a combination of awe and shock, but instead of arguing she went to Harry, who was slowly rising. He put his arms around her shoulders and let her help him stand. His arms and legs were shaking badly due to having been under the Cruciatus Curse multiple times.

“We should get out of here,” Harry said staring at the stone archway. “There is nothing we can do.”

As soon as Macnair flew through the veil, the wards on the manor fell. Slowly, Harry and Hermione made their way to the front door and left the house.

...

Outside in the garden, they sat down on the ground and collected their breaths, and their minds.

“Let’s not do that again anytime soon,” Hermione said.

“I thought we had lost when Macnair dodged your first spell,” Harry admitted.

“He was faster than I thought he would be."

They sat in companionable silence with their arms around each other for a few minutes.

“How about we take a vacation to Fiji? Get away for awhile just the two of us.”

“Oh, Harry! That’d be perfect.” Hermione exclaimed in a wide grin. She threw her arms around Harry’s neck and hugged him fiercely.

“Ow, ow!” Harry said while smiling widely back at her and hugging her equally as close.

They were hugging each other for a while, but eventually Harry drew back just to look at her. They didn’t speak but just smiled at each other; happy to be alive and together. Suddenly the smile froze on her lips and she grabbed his arm.

“Harry, do you think Macnair was working on his own?”

“Of course,” Harry replied looking at her in surprise. “You don’t?”

“It’s just… How did he get the stone archway from the Department of Mysteries here? And, and… how was he able to make sure we were coming here today? He was clearly mad, but he was able to figure all that out. How was he able to do that? Unless, he was working with someone else. Someone in a high enough position in the ministry to cover up the removal of the archway and someone who could sign off on who’s going on missions?” Hermione rambled. As the implications of Hermione’s idea settled, Harry’s face drained of colour.

“No!” he said determined. “He was working alone. He has to have been working alone… Dammit! What if he was not working alone?”

“I don’t know!”

“Fiji is sounding better and better by the minute, isn’t it?” Harry asked sighing deeply. “Let’s leave this godforsaken place.”

“We can’t just run away,” Hermione said shocked that he was even suggesting it.

“We’re not running away,” he argued. “Guess Fiji is postponed, since we have a corrupt ministry to clean up, yeah?” With a smile he held his hand out to Hermione and she grabbed it before they apperated away.

**The End**


End file.
